The Wanderer
by Bella Winter Rose
Summary: Josephine never liked children but when the quiet little girl with the mysterious barcode on her neck shows up on her doorstep, something inside her is melting to open her heart to this poor kid... (Ch 9 up)
1. Hunted, Sort Of

February, 2009

February, 2009

Josephine Amable, age 25, was driving home one night after a hard day. She broke a nail, her boss had screamed at her and the power had gone out thanks to the damn snowstorm earlier this morning, causing her to loose her documents for the day. The snow didn't make it any easier and her tiny little Camero told her so as it whined as Josephine tried to urge it uphill.

"C'mon Betsey, only two more miles then we'll be home," Josephine begged. "Please, please, please don't die on me! You already took away my heat and my radio, don't loose your gas yet!" she pounded on the steering wheel as she pressed the accelerator. Betsey groaned. Since Josephine had no children of her own, she named her cars instead.

Josephine hated kids. She loved her nephews Zack, Jason and Lazarus and her nieces Allegra and Rachael as an aunt should, but she really couldn't stand anyone under the age of fifteen. Josephine wasn't married, either. Men were exactly like children in Josephine's eyes. She wasn't lonely though. She had plenty friends and a dog and a cat but something was missing. Something was always missing.

Betsey the car made it over the hill and the two miles Josephine had pushed for, wanted and needed to get home. Her little townhouse was waiting for her. She couldn't wait to light a fire and slip into her flannel pajamas with a book and a cup of coffee. Little did Josephine know her plans would soon be thwarted. 

*

Her feet were cold but she felt no pain. She was sure her fingers had turned blue but in the evening moonlight everything was cast in a bluish tinge. She had been walking for one whole night and one whole day but no one offered her a ride or a lodging place. _Some people_, she realized, _aren't as nice as Hannah_. She'd been lucky that someone as nice as Hannah had picked her up about a mile from Manticore. Now that she'd left thatHannah and her nice warm cabin, she was now alone. Only nine and alone. _Why didn't anyone give her a second look?_ She wondered. _Where is everyone else? Why did we split up? I should have stayed with them._

She was hungry. She hadn't eaten anything in two days but snow and her mouth was getting sore from the coldness of it all. Her tongue tingled.

_Something hot to warm my bones, someplace cozy to unfreeze my toes_, she rhymed childishly as she walked, dodging stray branches and ominous rocks that might slice open her skin and leave a trail of blood. They would find her that way. She was a child, yet felt so much older. She knew far more than any normal nine-year-old. She knew how to kill a convict with her bare hands. Normal little girls played with dolls, not convicts. Normal little girls had long hair and wore dresses. But she wasn't a normal little girl. Not yet.

*

Josephine flopped down on her couch in a fit of giggles as her dog covered her face in wet licks. The 7-year-old boxer named Lex had been hers since he was six weeks old. The 2-year-old cat, Samantha, gazed upon Josephine and the dog with a look of haughtiness from her place by the window.

"C'mon Sam," Josephine urged the calico. Samantha flicked her tail and refused to budge. "You're a silly cat. I'll get you next time."

_Oh, please,_ Samantha's look told Josephine.

All though she had her popularity, Josephine pretty much preferred animals to the modern hominid. She had two older sisters, Kelly Ann and Lola. They were a pair of silly airheads—Josephine didn't talk to them a lot and she thought they didn't want to talk to her.

"That sister of yours all the way out in Wyoming is so antisocial," she overheard Lola's mother-in-law saying.__

_I'm not antisocial, _Josephine had thought._ I just don't like you._

She got up, her dark red hair flying in her face and straightening her sweater, to go to the kitchen and make herself a bowl of popcorn and some coffee. While the popcorn was heating up, she decided to dig up those flannel pajamas from her drawer. All of a sudden, Lex began whining and crying.

"What's the matter, you big coward?" Josephine sighed. "You see a rabbit or something?"

Lex scratched a paw at the back door and barked.

"Okay, silly. I'll let you out so you can follow whatever you're barking at. You'll see it's nothing." Josephine went from her bedroom to the kitchen where Lex was scratching. Lex hightailed it outside. Josephine shook her head and went back to hunting down her flannels.

*

The girl was walking quickly now, off the beaten path. She wished to the Blue Lady that she had brought some shoes. Her feet were terribly frozen. 

_Suck it up, soldier!_

She held her head a little bit higher, her shoulders a little bit straighter. 

_Keep moving! They'll get you!_

She broke into a run, tripping many times.

_You're weak! Weak as all hell! Don't you have any balance, 452?_

__A dog. She heard a dog in the distance. 

_They found you…you're going back, 452. Nice try._

Afraid to look back, she kept running. The dog's bark kept getting closer. A faint jingle, jingle, jingle accompanied the bark. A jingle like metal-on-metal. 

_Faster, faster!_

__She ran as fast as she could. The cold in her feet dissolved, her blood pumping and warming up her muscles. A branch loomed ahead. She jumped…and fell. Her knee twisted under her.

_Weak! Weak, weak, weak, weak, weak. You can't even jump over a branch, 452. What kind of soldier are you? Put her back, she's not done yet._

__She closed her eyes and imagined herself in the arms of the Blue Lady. She was safe. She was warm. She was…bleeding? Her legs were wet. She opened her eyes and saw a dog licking her legs. An ugly, squashed-face dog with pointy ears. Not at all like the angry looking mongrels at Manticore. He was kind of…cute, maybe? She put her hand out, trembling. Oh, no—not now. A seizure was the last thing she needed. The ugly dog barked at her shaking hand. She reached out and held the tag dangling from the dog's neck. She tried to make out the word in the dark.

"L-L-Lllll…eh….cks…" she stuttered. "Lex."

_He must belong to someone. Someone who isn't you._

Lex the ugly dog ran off. She got up painfully—her knee was beginning to swell. Limping, she followed him.

*

Josephine was engrossed in a novel when Lex scratched at the door, wanting to come inside. She really didn't want to get up—she was at a good part. But Lex was insistent. Dog-earing the page, she slid her feet into her slippers and got up.

"Did you find what you were looking for, you dumb dog?" she said, opening the door. She gasped at what she saw on the stoop. Not just Lex, but a child!

"H-hi," she said softly. Josephine shivered. She couldn't tell whether this child was male or female, but judging by the eye shape and feminine lips, she thought female. The child had a buzz hair cut, army style. She wore no shoes and only what looked like a hospital gown with sweatpants. She was trembling. She said nothing.

Josephine bit her lip. She couldn't leave this child. 

"Would you like some warm milk, hon?" Josephine asked the child. At the word milk, the girl nodded. Josephinestepped aside and noticed the girl's feet were frostbitten. She was trembling more violently than before. Lex ran inside and Josephine closed the door. She poured some milk in a mug and put it in the microwave. She noticed the girl had not yet sat down.

"You can take a seat if you want," Josephine encouraged. The girl sat stiffly at the kitchen table. The microwave beeped and Josephine took the mug out and handed it to the girl who drank it quickly. Her trembling stopped. Josephine got out a bag of chocolate chip cookies.

"Would you like some with your milk?" she offered. She opened the bag and handed one to the girl. The girl examined it as if it were a foreign object.

_What little child never saw a cookie before?_ Josephine thought. "Try one," she urged, sitting beside the girl. "They're good."

The girl nibbled at the cookie and a small smile spread across her lips. Josephine leaned back and noticed a black smudge on the back of the girl's neck. 

"So," Josephine drummed her fingers on the table. "You got a name, there, kid?"

The girl nodded.

"Well? Spit it out—what do they call you?"

The girl licked a few stray crumbs from her lips, "They call me Max."


	2. Family Matters

"Max, huh?" Josephine said. "Great name. My name's Josephine, but you can call me Jo if you'd like."

The girl kept her eyes down and gulped down the rest of her milk.

"So, you got any brothers or sisters?" Josephine asked, trying to make conversation with the child.

She nodded, "Many."

"Where are they?"

The girl, Max, pointed out the window, "Somewhere," she answered vaguely.

Josephine shrugged. "Are you the youngest or oldest?"

"I am the baby sister."

"Me, too," Josephine, put her hand over Max's, who jerked hers away. _Okay, so the kid doesn't like to be touched. That's fine. _"I have two older sisters."

"Five sisters," Max informed. "Four brothers."

_Wow_. "I don't have any brothers, but I have three nephews," Josephine told her. Max shivered and nodded.

"Cold," she said. 

Josephine was afraid to make contact with her again, but said, "I can draw you a hot bath. I bet you'd like that. Come with me." She stood up and led Max to her upstairs bathroom. Max seemed in awe of the shiny silver fixtures and blue décor. She peered inside the bathtub and felt the towels. She picked up Josephine's electric toothbrush and pressed the button. It whirred softly and vibrated. Max jumped, dropping the toothbrush. She looked at Josephine with mournful eyes.

"It's okay," Josephine assured her, picking up the cracked toothbrush. "I was getting ready to throw it away." She withdrew the batteries and threw the brush into the trashcan. Max sat on the marbleized floor while Josephine turned the knobs on the big, round white bathtub. She made sure the water was hot enough to take the chill out but not so it would burn her.

"Would you like me to give you privacy?"

Max shook her head. Josephine had no idea that this child had never heard of privacy. There was no such thing where she was from.

"Okay, then. Um, would you like a towel to sit on if you're going to stay on the floor? Would you like to use the toilet?"

Max glanced at the porcelain bowl and nodded. Josephine stepped out while the girl did her business.

_What a strange kid. Sits on the floor, never seen a cookie, never saw an electric toothbrush or a bathtub? I wonder what kind of poverty she lived in, to run around in the snow with no shoes._

"Done," Max called. Josephine heard the flushing of the toilet and stepped back in. Max was watching the water swirl into the pipes as she flushed it two more times. 

"You like that?" Josephine laughed. "I used to do that when I was little."

Max's smile dropped and gave Josephine a cat-who-ate-the-canary look.

"It's okay," Josephine assured her. "Look, the bathtub's nearly full." She pointed and Max peered in. She stuck her finger in the water and smiled. _She has a very pretty smile_, Josephine thought. _If only she didn't have that buzz haircut and that black mark on her neck._ "Take off your clothes and step in. Would you like me to leave?"

Max looked down at the clear water warily. _Such a big tub,_ she thought. _I'll drown._ "Stay," Max insisted.

"Um…o-okay," Josephine said nervously. She sat down on the closed toilet seat lid. Her eight year old niece bathed by herself. What is this girl afraid of?

Max stripped slowly and put a foot in the tub and withdrew it sharply. "Hot."

"I made it hot so you could warm up quicker," Josephine explained. "Ah, I guess I made it too hot, huh?"

"No…it's nice," Max forced a smile. _Did the woman expect her to sit in boiling water?_

"It's too hot," Josephine insisted and stood up.

"No, don't," Max insisted. "I can do it. Sit."

_This kid has very persuasive attitude.She reminds me of a little Jo_. "Okay."

Max lowered herself into the hot water, steam rising up from its surface. All the chills melted from her body. She slid in up to her neck and closed her eyes. This was nice. Jo was nice. She might want to stay here for a while.

Josephine watched Max enjoy her bath and a soft grin played on her lips. She was a very quiet girl. From what she could see, Max was truly very pretty, with a slim little body and the beginnings of a woman's figure. As quietly as possible, Josephine got up from her seat and carefully crept behind Max. That black smudge on her neck, wasn't a smudge at all! It was what looked like a barcode! As if sensing what Josephine was staring at, Max whipped her hand up out of the water and covered her barcode with embarrassment. She shifted in the tub so her neck was to the wall and glared at Josephine with daggers in her eyes.

"Where did you get that barcode? It's not a tattoo is it?" Josephine asked.

Max remained silent. She pinched her nose and dove underneath the water of the tub and curled into a fetal position. She could stay underneath for hours if she felt like it. Josephine was alarmed when Max didn't surface after five minutes. She peered into the tub. Max's eyes were open and there were bubbles escaping from her nose. Good, she was alive. Using her lesser judgment, she left Max alone in the tub and went into her own bedroom. Josephine went into her walk-in closet and pulled out a pair of heavy cotton socks from a drawer in a compartment. Then she went to a lower drawer and withdrew a soft cotton T-shirt that would easily reach to Max's knees. She went into the adjacent bedroom to hers that had served as an office and began to fix up the sofa-bed for her uninvited surprise. 

_What the hell are you doing, Jo?_ She though to herself. _This kid has nine siblings at home and most likely a set of parents—no doubt that's more of a family you've ever had. You're expecting her to stay the night? Don't say I didn't warn you._

When Josephine returned to the bathroom, Max had surfaced and her cheeks were bright red. 

"You left me," she said.

"I was…I had to…" Josephine stuttered. _Why am I so intimidated by this kid?_ "You ready to get out?" she asked, changing the subject. "Give me your hand."

Max looked at her newfound savior as if she'd spoken a foreign tongue.

"I need to see your fingers, kid," Josephine insisted, "to see if you should get out of the tub or not." When Max relented, Josephine reached into the tub and grabbed her hand, inspecting it. Her fingers were starting to shrivel like plums. "Thought so. Stand up, I'll hand you a towel." Josephine pulled two of the plushiest towels on her shelf and held them in her arms as Max stepped out of the tub and onto the rug placed in front of it. Josephine handed the towels to Max. She wrapped one around her body and the other she draped around her shoulders.

"Come with me," Josephine said. "I made up a room for you."

Max held her head down and shuffled behind Josephine, who led her to a small room which held a desk, a computer (not at all like the huge ones she saw at Manticore) and shelves upon shelves of books and picture frames. A stereo was wedged in a corner along with three floor lamps for room lighting. 

"You write?" Max asked, gesturing towards the leather-bound editions.

"No, I read," Josephine explained. "I'm a secretary for a living."

"Secretary?"

"Yes…I answer phones and type documents all day. It's hell but it pays good," Josephine forced a laugh. "Here. You can wear these," she held out the long T-shirt and socks. "I'm sorry I don't have underpants for you. My bum is about three times bigger than yours."

Max dressed in record speed. Josephine barely blinked before the towels were on the floor and Max was in her "pajamas". As Josephine made sure the room was kid-proof, she noticed Max was admiring her pictures. 

"You like my photos?" Josephine asked. Max nodded. 

"All yours?"

"Yeah, everyone in these pictures are my family. Oh, except for this one," Josephine reached for a picture of a man posed on a motorcycle. He was blond, slightly chubby. "My ex-boyfriend, Marco. What an ass. I'm not sure why I still have his photo here. Maybe for moral support."

"Who is that?" Max pointed to Josephine's favorite. Her sister Kelly Ann was posed with her husband, Josephine's brother-in-law, Paul, along with Zack and Rachael against a white background, dressed in formal-wear.

"One of my sisters and her husband and my niece and nephew. Rachael is eight and Zack is ten."

"Zack. My brother is Zack."

"You said you had four brothers."

"Zack, Ben, Krit, Zane."

"My sisters' names are Kelly Ann and Lola. What about you?"

"Jondy, Tinga, Jace, Brin, Syl."

"And you're the baby, huh?"

"Little sister," she corrected.

"Right. Little sister."

"They are gone."

"Who are?"

"They are."

"Your siblings?"

"Yes. They are gone. We separated."

"Is that why you are here?"

Max paused before continuing. "I followed Lex."

"You did. And I like you, kid. A lot. You don't say much, unlike my nieces. Say, how old are you, anyway?"

"Nine years."

"And you're the littlest sister? Wow…your parents must have their hands full, huh?"

Max didn't answer, but she crawled into the sofa bed and yawned. She fell fast asleep. Josephine kissed her finger and pressed it to Max's barcode. Poor little thing, so tired. She had a sweetness buried deep inside her. 

Josephine readied for bed herself and crawled underneath the covers of her own bed. Her eyes weren't closed for more than ten minutes when she heard her back door open. _Max_. Josephine tiptoed out of her room and caught Max trying to leave but Lex the dog was holding her back. Max sensed Josephine behind her and whirled around, a surprised look on her face.

"If you're going to leave," Josephine said softly. "I'd appreciate a good-bye first."


	3. Spit it Out!

Josephine had a good stare-down with Max and then went back to her own room. She closed the door and waited, listening intently. She heard Max shut the back door and went back to the office that was now Max's "bedroom" Josephine had set up for her. Josephine felt a weight lift from her chest. She really took a liking to Max, even though she'd been in her house for only a short time. Most nine year olds she knew gave lip, namely her niece, even though she was eight. What a mouth that girl had! But Max was more serene. She barely spoke but anyone with half a brain could tell by the girl's eyes that something worthy of intelligence was going on inside that shaved head of hers. 

The next morning brought rain. Good thing it was Saturday or Josephine would have a bone to pick with someone, namely her boss. She woke up at ten-thirty and went into the kitchen, her red hair mussed around her face and shuffling in her ancient pink fuzzy slippers. She nearly forgot about Max until she spotted the little imp already sitting at the kitchen table where they had enjoyed milk and cookies the night before. Josephine poured herself a cup of coffee and took a long drink before speaking.

"Good morning," Josephine greeted. "How'd you sleep."

"Warm," was all Max would say and didn't care to elaborate. 

"That's good," Josephine yawned. "Are you hungry? Would you like for me to make you breakfast?"

Max nodded. She hugged her knees close to her chest and tucked her toes underneath the long T-shirt she had slept in.

"Hmm," Josephine opened her refrigerator and peered inside. Good, eggs were present. She took two out of the carton and placed them carefully on the counter. She got a cooking pan out of the pantry and turned on the stove. Max became interested and wandered over to see what Josephine was doing. 

"I'm guessing you've never seen a stove before?"

Max shook her head. 

"Do you have a telephone at your house? I think your Momma and Daddy will miss you if you stay away for so long…you should call them."

Max pursed her lips. 

"No telephone either. When are you getting home?"

Max shrugged. "No home."

_Oh boy,_ Josephine thought. "No home? Are you running away, Max?"

Slowly but surely, Max nodded. 

_Holy shit I have a runaway fugitive in my house!_ "Where are you running from?"

"Home."

"What did your momma and daddy do that was so bad?"

"No momma or daddy."

Josephine stopped what she was doing and looked straight into Max's eyes. "Max…what are you saying?"

"I have to go," Max turned to leave but Josephine was quicker. She grabbed the girl's arm and whirled her around. 

"I know you don't know me very well and I don't know you, but I know you well enough to know that you are not making any sense. Tell me what you're talking about—_please_. I can help you." Josephine turned off the stove with her free hand. With the other, she took Max by the hand and lead her to the living room. "You're going to sit down on the couch and tell me everything before I keep you in this house for a moment more. I want to hear everything, Max—the barcode, the shaved head, the 'no home, no parents' thing…let's go, spit it out." Josephine sat Max on the couch and pulled up an ottoman from her favorite armchair and sat on it so she and Max could be eye-level.

"I don't take orders anymore," Max said defiantly. "From anyone."

"Oh? Oh, yeah? Well, we'll see about that, missy. I can pick up my telephone right now and call Social Services and they'll come get you and put you in some orphanage. Now I can either do that and you'll be shipped off to foster care, or you can tell me the truth and if you do that you can stay with me for as long as you'd like."

"Truth is not the issue," Max narrowed her eyes. "It is trust."

"Well, aren't you the little diplomat, huh? Yeah trust is involved here and I _trust_ that you will give me the _truth_ about you and your past and your future. Now c'mon, let's go. Spit it out."

"If you keep prodding me," Max glared at Josephine. "I will never tell you and I do not care where I end up now." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yes you do. You don't want to go back where you came from, right?"

Max uncrossed her arms and sat on her hands. Josephine blew her bangs out of her face. "Okay, fine. We don't have to talk. We can sit _right here all day_ and just stare at each other okay? Sound like fun?"

They sat in silence for five minutes until Max saw Josephine wasn't kidding.

"I will talk," Max said reluctantly. "But you have to believe everything I say."

Josephine almost laughed. "Honey, after what's happened so far, you don't have to persuade me to believe anything."


	4. What?

David Normal David 2 372 2001-10-26T00:16:00Z 2001-10-26T00:16:00Z 1 1075 6129 51 12 7526 9.2720 

          Max opened her mouth to speak and closed it quickly like a fish out of water. She opened it once more and said, "You noticed my barcode?"

            "Yes…last night. In the bathtub," Josephine said. 

            "It is my name."

            "Isn't your name Max?" Josephine was confused.

            "That is not my true name. I am only called Max. My real name is X5-452. I am a Manticore soldier," Max sat straighter.

            "Soldier," muttered  Josephine. "What about all those brothers and sisters?"

            "They are also soldiers. We all have number-names, not people-names. We named each other or chose names ourselves. I ended up Max. Jondy, Zack, Tinga…they all got their names from us," Max explained. She paused, "I miss them."

            "You said you had no momma or daddy. Where are they?"

            "Don't know," Max shrugged non-chalantly.

            "You really don't, do you?"

            Max shook her head. "I am not human. Not enough. I am part cat."

            "Of course you're human. You have everything where it should be, two eyes, a nose, a mouth, ten fingers and ten toes. No tail, no whiskers. Cats hate water and you took to the bathtub like a frog more than a cat last night."

            "Cat DNA," Max emphasized. "Cat inside."

            "Oh…I see," Josephine followed, but didn't really understand. A 9-year-old knew more about DNA than she did. Ha.

            "Cats are better soldiers."

            "Huh? Cats are domestic animals, sweetie, not soldiers. Where's Samantha?" Josephine broke from the subject, referring to her calico. "Pst, pst, pst…here pussycat."

            Samantha crawled out from under the couch and Josephine seized the unwilling struggling feline and placed her in her lap. "See, Max? Samantha is a cat, not a soldier. She's a pet. You met Lex last night, he's a pet."

            "Cat abilities. I can see, hear, jump, run like a cat."

            "Oy vay," Josephine murmured and sat back, but she forgot she was sitting on an ottoman and fell on the floor.

            "Jo!" Max exclaimed, calling Josephine by her name for the first time since last night. "Are you all right?" Max looked down at her hostess.

            "Yeah," Josephine sat up and shook her head. "So you're saying you're genetically enhanced?"

            Max nodded.

            "You think you know a person," she muttered under her breath. "Well, Max. There's still a little bit missing. Where do you come from?"

            "Manticore. Big building. Much bigger than this," Max spread her arms wide to emphasize her point. 

"What did you do in Manticore?"

"Trained. Did exercises. Fought. Taught to survive in the woods. Kill. We ran after convicts and hunted them down like one would hunt a bear. The first one to find him, killed him. I went to bed with my hands stained with the blood of a man who killed others but I killed him in return." 

Josephine swallowed hard. _They taught little children to kill?_

Max continued. "We lived in barracks. Small beds for each of us. It got cold, I would sneak into bed under the covers with Jondy. Then Eva would come. We would all huddle together for warmth."

            "My sisters and I did that, too, when we were very small," Josephine remembered fondly, back when she and Kelly Ann and Lola were still friends.

            "Eva is dead now," Max looked out the window at the falling rain. "Shot in the chest. She held a gun to the Colonel. He got scared and gunned her down."

            "That's terrible." _Who's the Colonel?_

            "We think she is better gone, Jondy and I. Ben says she is with the Blue Lady."

            "The Blue Lady?" Josephine asked. "Mind if I ask who that is?"

            Instead of responding verbally, Max took Josephine by the hand and led her to the office, now Max's bedroom.

            "The Blue Lady is in here," Max said. "Here." She pointed to Josephine's lifelike sketch of the Virgin Mary that she drew back in high school, with baby Jesus on her knee.

            "That's your 'Blue Lady'?" Josephine asked, lightly squeezing Max's fingers that enclosed her own hand. "Sweetie, that's Mary of Nazareth. She's the mother of Jesus Christ."

            "I want to learn about her."

            Josephine pursed her lips. Teach the word of Christ to a killing machine? "Later, Max."

            "Now…I want to learn if Eva is with her, now," Max tugged on Josephine's hand. "That is why I stayed. The Blue Lady was here. I felt her in here. She was watching over me. I couldn't leave."

            "The Blue Lady watches over all of us," Josephine said. "I'm sure Eva is with her."

            "I want to stay here," Max said after a long silence.

            Josephine's heart skipped a beat. _A child? Live _here_?_ "W-well, are you sure?"

            "No where else. Too cold to travel. I will be gone by spring," Max promised.

            "Ah, well, ah, if you really want to…um, I guess I can say you're here for fostering," Josephine said. "If you really and truly want to stay with me, you can."

            "Really?"

            "All though I'm very skeptical about this Manticore thing," Josephine added quickly. "No funny business, okay? No super powers on mere mortals."

            Max had no idea what that ment but she nodded in agreement. 

            "If you're going to live here, you got to get some proper clothing," Josephine thought out loud. "Some new pants, shirts, socks, _shoes_," she added with a laugh. "I'll take you to Wal-Mart. They have some pretty good stuff at prices I can easily afford on my salary. I would say we'd enroll you in school, but you'll be gone by spring. No sense in putting you in and pulling you out."

            "I got education in Manticore. Enough of it."

            Josephine twisted her lips as if she couldn't think of anything better to do. "I can't let you just hang around the house all day, Max. Especially while I'm at work."

            "I will work, too. I'll get a job."

            "You're only nine. You can't work. Maybe you can come to work with me," she led Max out of the room and to the den. "I'll buy you some workbooks for kids your age and see how you do. Then we'll see about school." She ran her fingers over Max's stubble of hair. "You should grow your hair, Max. I bet it will be very pretty when it's long. With those eyes and perfect mouth…you'll be a real looker, I bet."

            "Can I wear a dress when my hair is long?" Max asked.

            "You can wear a dress now," Josephine said. "I think I have one here…one my niece Allegra outgrew. She left here one year and never came to fetch it. With your figure, it might fit a little loose but that's okay."

            Josephine quickly went into the office and opened the oak closet. Hanging still on that purple plastic hanger, was Allegra's ancient dress. It was navy blue and very simple, with a square neckline. Allegra, who was now thirteen, had last worn the dress when she was about seven or eight, but Max was very thin and short with a chest as flat as an unread book. Josephine took the dress out of the closet and turned around and was shocked to see that Max had followed her and was standing in the doorway.

            "Max…you scared me."

            "Is that the dress?"

            "Yes…would you like to put it on?"

            As Max slipped out of the over-sized T-shirt, Josephine ran to her own bedroom to find a pair of panties that were small on her. In case they were too big, she grabbed a safety pin. When Josephine got back, Max was already in the dress and sitting on the floor.

            "Stand up," Josephine suggested. "Let  me see what a knock out you are."

            "I feel funny," Max grimaced. She stood.

            "Hm," Josephine sighed as she smoothed out the dress where Max had creased it when she sat. The navy cotton was slightly worn, but still in tact. "With your hair it looks a little funny, but…I think you look, kinda pretty."

            Max gazed at her image in the mirror. _Could I be pretty? _She gave a smile and answered, "Yes."


	5. Breaking The News To Mom

            "You WHAT?"

            Josephine held the phone away from her ear as her mother bellowed. She put it back and repeated what she just said. "I volunteered to foster a little kid."

            Mrs. Amable snorted in disgust and disbelief. "Josephine, are you mad? You live in an apartment—"

            "Ranch house," Josephine corrected sharply.

            "You don't have any money—"

            "Mother, you're overreacting. She's nine years old and she's been with me for a week. I just thought you'd like to know in case you pop over for one of your surprise visits."

            "You've been housing this child for a week and you're telling me now?" Mrs. Amable sounded weary. "I better get over there and make sure you're not corrupting the poor thing."

            "Oh for sobbing out loud," Josephine grumbled. "I really wish you wouldn't."

            "You know how I get with children, Josephine. Whether she is of your blood or not, she is a temporary granddaughter and I don't want anything bad to come of her."

            "But wait," Josephine started to protest but her mother had all ready hung up the phone. Shaking her head, she put the receiver back into the cradle and turned, finding Max right behind her. It was her darn catlike ways that made her so quiet and easy for her to sneak up on Josephine.

            "Your mother does not like me," Max stated as a certainty.

            "Well, we'll soon find that out," Josephine said, coming over to Max and rubbing her stubble of hair. "That shirt looks nice on you." Max smoothed the purple cotton tee and looked proud. It was odd getting used to wearing jeans and comfortable shirts and sneakers.

            Just like Josephine had promised, she took Max to Wal-Mart to get her some new "out-of-Manticore" clothes (or "civilian apparel" as Max put it). Four pairs of jeans, ten shirts, three sweaters, two dresses (on Max's request), a pair of sneakers, a pair of patent leather Mary Jane's, four three-packs of underwear and a dozen socks later, Max was pretty much set.

            "So many," Max was awed at the choices set before her as Josephine held her by the hand and led her through the Girls' Clothing Department. She loved the feel of all the fabrics and stood at the jewelry counter for what seemed like hours, just admiring the sapphires, rubies, emeralds and diamonds with eyes wide.

            "What do I call your mother?" Max asked as Josephine led her out of the kitchen by the hand.

            "Certainly not Grandma," Josephine muttered under her breath. In a louder voice, she explained to Max that she should just address her as Mrs. Amable and leave it at that.

            "Is she nice?"

            How do I answer a question like that? "Well, growing up I told her I hated her at least a dozen times. She was always denying me of something and I told her she was mean and all that…I guess you'll just have to see for yourself."

            "Where does she live?" 

            "Seattle, but she's apparently in Wyoming for the time being because she's coming today. Seattle fits her better. My mother is the most depressing person in the world—rainy weather is suitable."

            "Where is Seattle?"

            "In Washington state…it rains almost twenty-four-seven there. Very gloom and doom."

            "Why is she so depressing?"

            "Her favorite game is Guess Who Died."

            "Huh?" Max looked up with an incredulous look on her face.

            "Never mind…you'll see. Um, go put on one of those dresses that we bought for you. I want you to make a good impression."

            Meanwhile, Josephine made mental notes to herself in case her mother asked too many questions concerning Max.

            _Calm down, Jo. She's not all bad. Sure she read your diary when you were in high school and made you wear that stupid pink dress for your Sweet Sixteen, but give her a break._

            Max went to her closet (she now thought of everything in Jo's office as hers) and picked out a nice one-piece dress of the palest blue. Most of the clothes she had picked out while shopping with Jo were blue—she loved the richness and varieties of it and Jo said it was a good color for her. Blue also represented the "Virgin Mary", as Jo called her. She had yet to learn about this Virgin. It was something she wanted to learn about very, very much. For instance, why could she see her heart in that card Ben had? Maybe Jo's mother had answers. That was another mystery—Jo's mother. Mother. It was a foreign word to her. What was it like to have a mother? What did she do? Max slipped the dress over her head and gazed in the mirror. She was becoming quite narcissistic when it came to primping. 

_Pretty me, pretty me. Beauty queen. Drama queen. Social butterfly._ Words she read in some of Jo's fashion magazines came flooding back to her. 

Max wished she asked Jo to buy her a hat but she already had done so much. Hats would cover what little hair she had. 

She really didn't want to leave this house, but come spring she would have to. She promised. Promises were a big thing back in Manticore. Didn't Ben promise the Blue Lady would save them all? Not all—only twelve got out. 

She traced a circle on the oak dresser with her finger as she studied her face again and again. _My lips too big, my nose too squat, my eyes too narrow—I really look like this?_

"Max!" Jo called. "What are you doing in there?"

            "Just…" Max answered. "Just looking…at something—I mean,_ for_ something."

            "Find it and hurry up. I need you to do talk to you."

            Max pulled on some new socks and the Mary Jane's and shuffled out of her room. 

            "Okay, Max," Jo said quickly once she seated her on the couch. "Whatever I say to my mother, just go along with it."

            "What if I do not agree with what you are saying?" Max asked sharply.

            "Then you will shut your mouth and let me take care of it. You may be the so-called soldier here, but I am the adult."

            "I don't have to listen to you."

            "Hey, hey, hey. Who's your bread and water for the next month, huh? If you wanna stay here, you let me handle this, okay?"

            "Yes, ma'am," Max sulked.

            "Okay. Rule one: no mentioning Manticore. My mother will give you the third degree and if you let anything slip…"

            "I promise."

            "Then it's set. Rule two: don't talk back."

            "Talk back?"

            "Yeah, talk back. As in being a smart alec," Josephine glared. "No telling her that you don't have to listen to her or acting like you're nineteen instead of nine. When you're nineteen, you can do whatever you want—get a job, get a motorcycle, live in your own apartment, fall in love with a guy totally opposite of you—but for the time being you're not even in double digits yet so act like the sweet little girl I made you out to be."

            Max mused over this for a few seconds and then nodded. "What if she asks about—"

            "If she asks about anything about you, I'll take care of it."

            The doorbell rang, scaring Max out of her skin.

            "No turning back now," Josephine said. She went to the front door and opened it with a cheery, "Hello, Mother. Nice of you to drop by."


	6. Good Lies

            Max's eyes flitted about until they laid on Jo's mother. She was a stout woman, with a fleshy body and large hips. She had a shock of red hair—much brighter than Jo's. She wore a black pillbox hat, a white fur coat ("Australian lamb," Jo whispered to Max later), and black square-toed flats. Her make up was heavy on her pale face and her perfume was so strong Max could almost taste it. She tried to hide her grimace as Jo let her mother into the living room.

            "Is this your little ward, Josephine?" Mrs. Amable said in a husky voice as soon as she laid eyes on Max, sitting stiffly on the couch. She took off her coat and Jo hung it on a pink plastic hanger.

            "Call her by her name, Mother," Jo said. "This is Max."

            "Max? Who in their right mind would name a child Max? Max is the name you call a dog, not a little girl. Has she got a last name?" Mrs. Amable fluffed her orange mane and took off her hat. Underneath the coat she was wearing a pink dress with black piping trim and fat black buttons parading down the front. Around her neck was a large sparkling diamond cross, easily five inches long and four inches wide. Max's eyes sparkled along with it in envy.

            Josephine panicked. Her eyes roamed around the room, the gears in her mind turning. She then saw her latest novel on the side table, _Dearly Beloved_ by Carmen Guevara. "Max Guevara," Josephine blurted. Max raised a critical eyebrow.

            "Well, I suppose it's somewhat better," Mrs. Amable sighed, as if it was out of her hands. She pecked Josephine's cheek with a quick kiss and sat primly on the armchair somewhat diagonally from the couch where Max was sitting. "She could be a pretty child but for that ghastly hair."

            Josephine cleared her throat and sat on the couch next to Max, "Um, Mother?" _Think, Jo! Quick!_ "Max has cancer. Her hair is like that because she lost it from the chemotherapy."

            "Oh," Mrs. Amable clutched her chest as if she were the one with "cancer" and looked terrified. "Oh, my word. I'm sorry, my dear child. Are you in any pain?"

            "No, ma'am," Max answered truthfully. "I'm fine."

            "How dreadful for parents to give up a cancerous child," Mrs. Amable shook her head, clucking her tongue like a chicken. "Max, you are one lucky lady to live with someone like my daughter, all though I don't think you should be."

            Max opened her mouth to give an answer but a quick glare from Jo shut it.

            "How old are you, dear?" Mrs. Amable asked.

            "Nine. How old are you?"

            "Max!" hissed Josephine and fearfully watched for her mother's reaction.

            Instead of fuming with fury, Mrs. Amable's tight-lipped smile broke into a wide grin and chuckled, surprising Josephine.

            "It is not polite to ask ladies such as I their ages, dear," Mrs. Amable said light heartedly. "But I will tell you I'm older than you probably think I am."

            "I bet I can guess," Max smiled brazenly.

            "Max!" Josephine scolded again.

            Mrs. Amable clucked again, "Josephine, the child doesn't know better. It's amusing. I bet she would get a kick out of hanging out with Rachael, eh?"

            "Oh for the love of Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Josephine muttered. 

            "Thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain, Josephine."

            _There was that Mary lady again,_ thought Max. _She must be really important where Jo grew up._

            "Where are you from, Max?" Jo's mother continued.

            "Manticore," Max said, slipping. She bit her lip until she tasted blood and winced. _Uh-oh…_

            "I don't believe I've heard of Manticore. What state is that in?"

            "Manticore is the name of the orphanage she was at, Mother," Josephine said quickly. "It's in, ah, Portland."

            "How nice. I hear Portland is lovely in the fall."

            Josephine breathed a silent sigh of relief. All of a sudden, Mrs. Amable clapped her hands sharply and said, "Josephine, guess who died last week?"

            "Here we go," Jo whispered to Max. "Who, Mother?"

            "That man your father used to work with, the one with the blind wife and four children? Hank Fiebig."

            "You don't say."

            "He just keeled over, never knew what hit him."

            "Mother, I don't think we should discuss this in front of Max."

            Dropping her gossip, Mrs. Amable sighed. "Oh, I suppose it's the courteous thing to do…Josephine, I'm famished. Is there any thing for lunch?"

            Max's stomach growled. She was hungry too.

            "I'll go check," Josephine said. She stood, straightening her black shirt and smoothing the forest green top and sauntered into the kitchen.

            "Now that Josephine is gone, my dear," Mrs. Amable moved off the armchair and slid onto the sofa. "We can really get to know each other."

            Max didn't know how to answer that.

            "Tell me, did you know your parents?"

            _If I knew that I wouldn't be in Manticore, would I?_ she thought. "No."

            "That's terrible. Do you have any siblings?"

            "Yes, I do. Eleven."

            "My goodness," laughed Mrs. Amable. "What a funny little girl you are."

            "Your cross is very pretty," Max said with a fake smile.

            "Aren't you precious! Josephine's father gave it to me on our wedding day. I almost never take it off. You should wear a cross yourself, dear. Why you're almost conformation age, aren't you?"

            "Conformation?"

            "My dear, you don't go to church?"

            "We did not have religion at Manticore," Max said, her eyes glued to the sparkled cross. She wanted to touch it…to caress the diamonds that glittered, implanted in the priceless gold.

            "My, my, my. You do not know about Christ?" Mrs. Amable fluffed out her hair.

            Shaking her head, Max opened her eyes wide. Jo had said the Virgin Mary was the mother of Christ. "Can you tell me?"

            Just then, Jo called from the kitchen: "Come and get it!"

            Max was going to protest but the warm smells of good food wafting from the kitchen were too much to resist.

_            There's always later, _she thought._ The Blue Lady is always with me._


	7. Ziti

A/N: I thoroughly apologize for the delay of Chapter Seven … I almost gave up on this story but woe is me I am a weak and pitiful human being and I have taken painstakingly careful steps to plot out the remainder of this story. Once again, please accept my humble apologies!! Luv, CW 

Max kept a mysterious eye on Mrs. Amable's diamond cross as she peered over her grilled cheese sandwich. She wanted that cross badly. How was she to get it though?

Jo kept her eye on Max. _This little imp is bound to cause some trouble with Mother_, she thought. 

"How was the drive up, Mother?" Jo asked through a false smile.

"Dreadful," Mrs. Amable said, dabbing her plump lips with a napkin. "Josephine, didn't I ever teach you how to cook? The sandwiches are _terribly_ greasy."

"No, that was Kelly Ann," Jo replied dryly, referring to her mother's favorite. Of course Kelly Ann would be Mother's favorite. She was the perfect child. Even Lola, the difficult middle-child who was Daddy's favorite, was calmer and more demure than the red-headed rogue that was Josephine.

"Oh, yes. Well, I guess I'll have to teach Max here a thing or two about manning the kitchen," Mrs. Amable crumpled the paper napkin in her hand and pushed her chair from the table. "Come along, Max, dear."

Max popped out of her seat and eagerly trailed behind Jo's mother. Jo, alarmed, followed suit. _This was such a bad idea to have Mother come over._

"Where do you keep your aprons, Josephine?"

"I don't wear aprons, Mother. Who do you think I am, Donna Reed?"

"Oh that's right. You probably live off of that Burger King stuff, don't you?" Mrs. Amable turned her nose up. 

It took Jo every ounce of her will to keep her from slicing her wrists in the presence of her mother.

"This will have to do," her mother announced with dramatic flair, whipping out a worn dishtowel from one of Jo's drawers and tucked it into the elastic band of her skirt as a make-shaft apron. "Now, I don't know if Josephine has told you, Max," she said, looking down at the poor little child, "but I make the best ziti _á la Elaine_ this side of the West Coast."

"The best _what_?" Max raised an eyebrow.

Mrs. Amable gave a thin, brittle laugh that cut through Josephine like nails on a chalkboard. "Dear Max, ziti is a type of pasta shape. _Á la Elaine_ is French and it means 'by Elaine.' Elaine is my first name, dear."

"Oh."

Jo watched Max watching her mother with interest as Hurricane Elaine disassembled the kitchen.

"Josephine, where are your canned goods? I need some of that Campbell's mushroom soup."

"In the pantry, Mother, with all my other cans." _Genius._

"Oh yes. Run and fetch a can, will you, Max?"

When Max didn't move, Mrs. Amable turned to the girl and said, "In the pantry, Max. It's a small can with a red-and-white label. It says Mushroom on it."

"Oh…Jo?"

Jo, who had been chipping at the hideous rose-colored nail polish that had stained her cuticles, looked up, "Yes?"

"Where's your…pant-trees?"

She couldn't help but smile, "The door to your right, Max."

Shyly, Max followed Jo's directions and emerged a minute later triumphantly handing the mushroom soup can to Mrs. Amable. 

"Thank you, my dear. Now, watch," Mrs. Amable instructed Max. She held a large blue pot in her hands. "Fill this half-way with tap water and then put it on the stove. Set the stove on high and cover it. Then you wait for the boil. That's when large bubbles appear on the surface of the water."

"I'm sure she knows what boiling is, Mother," Jo replied. 

Max looked over her shoulder at Jo and smiled a bright, meaningful smile without showing her teeth. Jo felt herself smile as well, her heart warming at the sight of this girl's show of affection._ With that smile she could be a real looker one day._

Mrs. Amable scowled, "Well, the child's been sheltered, Josephine."

All Jo could do was roll her eyes. Max saw her do it, giggled softly and copied Jo's motion.

__

I'm confused, Jo thought to herself. _The girl reveals herself to me as a killer, a soldier or whatever she is yet she acts like this total normal girl_. Jo shivered a little at the word killer. This was not the face of a killer…she had one of those would-be-could-be angelic faces like that Jon-Benet Ramsey. 

"Be _care_ful not to _drop_ that, dear!" shrilled Mrs. Amable to Max, who was shuffling more than taking steps, like a Chinese geisha girl, holding the big blue pot tightly, gripping the handles so that Josephine could see her knuckles turning white. When Max reached the stove she stared at the four silver knobs shining back at her. She turned all of them on high. She put the lid on the pot and turned to Josephine and her mother.

"Done," she said with triumph. 

"Oh," Josephine got up from her seat and turned three burners off. "My mother didn't mean the whole stove, kid. Just the burner the pot was on. She has a habit of not being clear on directions."

"And just _what_ is that supposed to mean, young lady?" Mrs. Amable glared at her youngest daughter. Josephine returned the cold stare.

Max laughed out loud, enjoying the looks on their faces as they turned to her in surprise. Josephine began to laugh too and soon her mother was giggling as well. 


	8. Just As George Carlin Said

Mrs. Amable stopped her chuckles first and gave a sweeping glance over Max's body. "Oh, my word, I nearly forgot. Dear child, I have just the thing for you—wait right here." She left the kitchen and went into the den.

"Your mother is very strange," Max whispered to her guardian. "I'm almost glad I do not have one. Why does she speak French?"

Josephine giggled as she tried to stifle the mouth of the nine year old. 

"Here it is!" Josephine's mother returned with a smallish blue velvet box. "I grabbed this just as I was leaving, thinking any child with you would need some sort of protection like this. I _originally_ was _saving_ this for Allegra once she reached confirmation in three years, but I can _always_ get another one. Dear Max, wear it well." She pressed the blue box into Max's hand, who gripped it tightly. "Until now I completely forgot I had it with me! Dear me, dear me, I'm getting along in my old age!" Mrs. Amable laughed.

Max opened the small blue box and saw a small gold T lying on white silk. She looked at it, confused. 

"Mother…that's unnecessary," Josephine said, taking the box away from Max. "Take it back."

"What was it?" Max asked, looking up at Josephine. 

"A cross," Josephine said through gritted teeth. "A gold cross necklace. Take it back, Mother. Give it to Allegra. I _cannot_ believe you had the _gall_ to give her this!" She thrust the box into her mother's hands.

"Josephine!" Mrs. Amable glared at her daughter. "Every young lady should have a nice piece of jewelry."

"So get the girl a watch or a bracelet, Mother. Not a gold cross. She could be Jewish or Buddhist for all we know, and you give her a _cross_? I used to think you were crazy, Mother, but now I think I might have to have you committed!"

"Committed to what?" Max asked, snatching the box from Mrs. Amable to peer at the cross again. 

"Not now, Max," Josephine said. "Go into the living room please, while I finish yelling at my mother." 

Holding the blue box in her cupped hand, no one noticed she was holding it. She went into her bedroom, closed the door and sat cross-legged on the bed. She opened the box and stared at the cross. Why was Jo so mad? It was sort of pretty. What was wrong with it? Max liked it and wished she could keep it. 

"Max, you little elf," Josephine called. "Where'd you go?"

"I'm in my room!" Max called back.

"Where's the necklace? Do you have it?" 

"No!" She lifted the side of the mattress and stuffed the blue box underneath it, between the mattress and the bedsprings.

"You're lying again. Do you want me to come in there and strip-search your room?"

"No!" 

"I swear to God, Max—"

"Josephine!"

"Mother, SHUT UP! Max, I swear I'll come in there and give you a cavity search. I'll give you castor oil til you—"

"Josephine!"

"Mother, SHUT UP!"

"I don't have it!" Max was on the verge of a whine.

"Max!" Jo stomped into the room. "Give Mother the necklace."

"I don't have it," Max pouted. 

"Max! For the love of all things bloody sacred—" Jo slapped her forehead with her palm. "I will not get mad. I will not get mad. I will not smack you upside the head. I will not call DYFS on myself…"

"Who's 'Dyfuss'?"

"…I will not go _Mommie Dearest _on your skinny behind…"

"Your Mommie Dearest is right behind you."

"Josephine?" Mrs. Amable sighed. "Where's the necklace? I'll take it back."

"I don't have it," Josephine said.

"I don't have it," parroted Max. "You must have lost it yourself."

"Max!" Josephine hissed. 

"You must be getting along in your old age," Max smiled sweetly. 

__

Oh, dear God in Heaven, Josephine cringed. _I knew she'd say something like that._

"Well!" Mrs. Amable pulled her shoulders back as if she'd been slapped. "Josephine, while this girl is here, you ought to teach her some manners."

"She _has_ manners, Mother. _You_ don't."

"Well, I never!" 

A few more nasty words were shot back and forth between mother and daughter until in the end, Josephine kicked her own mother out. 

"I'll mail the damn necklace to you…if I ever find it!" she yelled as Mrs. Amable drove away.

"Why is your mother mad?" Max asked after Mrs. Amable had been gone for nearly an hour.

"Because she wanted to control you like she controlled me." Josephine sank into the couch. Samantha the cat curled up in her lap and purred contentedly. 

"Why?" Max sat next to Jo and rubbed Samantha between the ears. Samantha in return licked the palm of Max's hand, her sandpaper tongue tickling. 

"I don't know."

"I liked the cross."

"I would prefer if you didn't wear stuff like that. You sure you didn't take it?" 

"Yes. How come I can't wear it?"

"Because. What my mother did was rude. Crosses are very personal."

"Why?"

"I don't know. They just are."

"I liked the sparkle. It was nice."

"Maybe when you grow up you can get your own cross…or whatever religion you turn out to be."

Samantha crawled off of Josephine's lap and settled into Max's. "Jo? What are you?" Max asked.

"Me? Catholic. Well, I was raised Catholic. Right now, I'm Catholic in the same sense that if a cow is born in a tree, it's a bird."

"Is it good?"

"Is what good?"

"Being Catholic."

"I don't know."

"For an adult, you don't know a whole lot."

"You've got quite a mouth, don't you?"

Max shrugged. She did have a mouth, but why Jo had to reiterate the fact she did was lost on her. "Do I have to be Catholic?"

"Egad, no," Josephine said, getting up from the couch. "I'd be perfectly happy if you were Atheist right now. Have you seen Lex?"

"What's Atheist?"

"It's when you don't believe in God. Did you let Lex out, Max?"

"What's God?"

Josephine sighed, gave up hunting for her boxer dog and sat back down on the couch, "Remember your Blue Lady?"

"Yes."

"The Blue Lady's son was named Jesus. Jesus' father was God. God is…" Josephine pursed her lips. "You know what, Max? I don't think I should be talking about this. Everyone has different ideas of what God is. Hell, people go to war about it. Some say God's a woman, some say a man, some say God has no gender."

Max was very confused. People went to war over this?

Josephine reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a few tablets she knew she'd be needing after her mother left: a few Advils. She popped them into her mouth and swallowed them dry. "It's just as George Carlin said: God is the leading cause of death. In my opinion, wars about God is just like a bunch of toddlers fighting over who has the better imaginary friend."


	9. Jezzer Jezzeru

"Technically, I'm not suppost to bring kids to work," Josephine explained the next Monday morning as she clothed Max in Allegra's blue dress and tied a silky white bandana around her head in a gypsy fashion. "But I'm sure if I think up a good explanation. You're my cousin or something. As long as you don't talk or annoy anyone, there shouldn't be problem."

Max followed Josephine into the bathroom and watched her brush her teeth and then was promptly kicked out when Josephine began to disrobe. 

"I'll tolerate visitors during my morning ritual, but when it comes to showers, it's me, myself and I."

So Max sat on the floor of Josephine's bedroom with Lex the dog's head in her lap. Samantha the cat was prowling about mischievously, occasionally rubbing her head against the sole of Max's foot. 

Bored, Max began to explore Josephine's dresser, staring at the photographs and knickknacks kept there. She opened an ornate porcelain vessel and recognized the collection of gold, silver, diamonds, emeralds from her excursion to Wal-Mart but also spotted a few strange, smooth stones that Max could not identify. One was an interesting blue-purple. One was bright green and was encased in gold. One was round and an interesting off-white. There were necklaces, earrings, bracelets and rings. 

One ring she found was gold, shaped like a bizarre kind of reptile. It wrapped itself around the same round, off-white stone, clutching it in its talons. It seemed to be hissing at Max and she hissed back at it. This reptile was challenging her and she was ready for it. She slipped it onto her thumb and put it in her mouth.

"What are you doing?" Josephine came out of the bathroom, her hair slicked back, wet and plastered against her shoulders. A fluffy yellow towel was wrapped around her body. She held a green one in her left hand.

Max gagged and spit the ring into her hand, which she quickly put behind her back. "Nothing."

"You're not a world-class thief yet, Max," Josephine said. She held out a hand. "Cough it up."

"Cough what?"

"Give me what's in your hand."

Reluctantly, she gave Josephine the ring. 

"A good thief," Josephine said as the ring, warm with Max's saliva, which didn't faze her in the least, was placed in her hand, "never gets caught."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am. My mother is ma'am." Josephine placed the ring on her index finger. "Ah. You have good taste, my dear. This was great-grandma Joséfina's ring. I was named after her."

"What is it?"

"It's an alligator. And that's a pearl. This was my favorite ring, so my dad gave it to me what I turned ten. It's been in my family since Joséfina brought it over from Ecuador. Her fiancé gave it to her before he died. She came to America, Spanish Harlem, to search for a new hubby."

"What's a hubby?"

"Husband. Spouse."

"Did she find one?"

"No. She got knocked up by a random john instead."

"Knocked up?"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

"How much?"

"Much-much." Josephine wrapped the green towel around her head and squeezed the water from her hair and then fluffed it up. Then she went to her vanity and sprayed something around her head, rubbed the towel in her hair again and then threw the wet towel on the carpet. Then she picked up a hairbrush. "There's a lot of stuff you need to know, kid. That's why you need to go to school."

"Why?" 

"Because you don't want to go to juvie for truancy."

"And juvie is…?"

"Juvenile hall. Jail for kids."

"They put kids in jail?" Max's mind raced. "We had something like that. Solitary confinement."

"We?"

Max didn't answer Josephine's question. Instead, she went back to the porcelain jewelry box and pulled out the green and bluish-purple stones out. "What are these?"

Josephine stopped raking the hairbrush through her hair and put it down. Then she took the jewelry from Max's hands. "Lapis lazuli," she said, taking the bluish-purple stone. It was set in a gold bangle alternated with rubies. "And this is jade." The bright green stone encased in gold, marching around in circles in an elaborate choker. "Come here."

Max took careful steps towards Josephine, who took the choker and wrapped it around Max's neck. 

"You look like an Egyptian goddess," Josephine said, pulling Max to the vanity mirror. "You are Hatshepsut. No—you are Nefertiti. You are Isis. _Jezzer jezzeru_—splendor of splendors." Josephine got up out of the vanity chair and sat Max down instead. "Sit still and close your eyes. Don't look in the mirror til I say so."

Max closed her eyes and waited. Her voluptuous lips parted ever so slightly and Josephine's heart melted. She looked so angelic. 

Josephine stared at the make-up on her vanity table and selected first a subtle rose shade of blush and brushed it gently onto Max's cheeks. She had cheekbones to die for. The blush had sort of a sparkle in it, making Max's complexion glow brilliantly. Pleased with herself, Josephine meticulously lined the lips and filled them in with a dark wine colored lipstick. Then she picked up an eyeliner pencil and began to line Max's eyes, just above the lashes. Suddenly, Josephine's hand slipped and poked Max in the corner of her eye.

As soon as Max felt the tip of the pencil stabbing her, her eyes popped open and she grabbed Josephine roughly by the wrist and squeezed. She could snap it at any given moment.

"Max!" Josephine gasped with pain. She dropped the pencil. "Stop it. Let go."

"Don't hurt me."

"Don't hurt you? Max, _you're_ hurting _me_!"

"I can break your wrist."

"I don't doubt it. Let go."

"Don't hurt me."

"I wouldn't hurt you. I wouldn't dream of hurting you. Damn it, let go, you little vice-gripper. What are you, a meat cleaver all of a sudden?"

Max let go. Josephine felt the blood slowly returning to her hand and fingers. Her heart was pounding. "What in God's name was that all about?"

"Don't hurt me again," Max whispered. She tore off her kerchief and she ran out of Josephine's room.


End file.
